Arya's capture
by noemiluisa
Summary: Arya has been captured by the Shade Durza and is being tortured by him when feelings start to develop. Meanwhile, Durza relationship with Galbatorix gets complicated as a new character appears into their lives. DurzaxArya, Galbatorix&Durza, AryaxEragon, EragonxGalbatorix. Multiple couples, gay sex, rated M for sexual themes and violence. I do not own any of the characters.
1. Chapter I:An alternative welcoming party

**Chapter I: An alternative welcoming party**

 **Gil'ead, Arya's cell**

Arya looked at the empty cellar she was in. Everything was covered in dust and there were rusty chains hanging from both the ceiling and the walls. She tried to move from her spot but her four limbs were restrained by ropes, which caused her wrists and ankles to bleed. She hissed in frustration, twisting her shackled hands in an attempt to break the ropes, even though that caused her scratched skin to bleed even more. Unsurprisingly, her magic was not working either; the Spectre Durza must have given her a poison to prevent her from breaking free. Her vision was blurred and each breath was a difficult task, but she wasn't going to give up.

'I see that you are awake,' a cold male voice reached her from the darkest corner in the room. She turned her head to the side, her green eyes zeroing onto the Shade, who was lying with his back against the stone wall. He grinned and sharp fangs appeared at the corners of his stretched lips. In a fluid motion, he left the wall and with slow steps he approached the stone bed where the princess was lying. His maroon eyes were fixed on her body as he felt his anger burn inside him; the violent spirits controlling him incited him to satisfy their bloodlust by brutally murdering the enemy in front of him. His hands clenched tightly and he inhaled the cold air to calm down, killing the elf now would have been a great mistake, he hadn't worked so hard to capture her alive just to lose his temper and waste his only chance to learn how to get the egg back.

Arya looked up at him from below, her features clearly expressing disgust. Without warning, she spat in his face startling him. His eyes narrowed and a threatening aura surrounded his figure. Slowly, he cleaned his face with the back of his left hand while with the right one he grazed Arya's temple. He was sure the Elf was repulsed simply by his closeness to her, let alone having him touch her with his dirty hands. She tensed as his blackened nails drew the line of her chin and lightly tapped on her lips. Her warm breath caressed his hand's skin while he moved downwards resting his claws on her neck.

'Do you mind telling me where you sent the egg?' he asked in a soft tone looking straight into her eyes. She firmly pressed her lips together in a sign of refusal, she was not going to break so easily. Although he had expected that reaction he couldn't say that he was happy to see her resisting him. A line appeared across his forehead, disappointment clearly written on his face.

'Is that so?' he said in a low tone, which was almost a growl. His right hand grasped her throat, pressing tightly against her jugular, 'I am a patient man, elf, but you are playing with fire…' He relaxed his fingers a bit. 'I guess I'll need to make your permanence here more comfortable as you will be staying in this cellar for a very long time'.

And, as he said so, the ropes around her limbs tightened and she felt her muscles stretch to their limit. His crimson eyes burned like fire when he uttered a few words which Arya never heard because the intensity of the pain she felt caused her blood to violently rush through her veins and her back involuntarily arched upwards.

Durza carefully observed as her body tensed and she shut her eyes close, her breaths coming out short and painful. He saw a single drop of sweat run from her head down her neck and then inside her tunic. Blood spilled out of her mouth when she accidentally bit her tongue too hard in an attempt to ease her pain. He giggled at the sight, his thirst for her growing minute by minute.

She might have been an enemy, but Durza couldn't deny that he was rather turned on by her current appearance. So vulnerable, completely at his mercy, and so temptingly beautiful while she was in such great pain. He admired her perfect curves, made even more evident by her twists. His hand went to stroke her leg and, as soon as she felt the unexpected contact, her eyes snapped open again.

She stared at him with an unreadable expression, yet he was sure that he smelled fear from her when he lowered his head next to her ear and sniffed her scent. For a brief time, he allowed her body to relax a little, reducing the intensity of the pain she was experiencing. Her silky black hair gently caressed his cheek when he whispered to her, 'You have such a tempting body, I am having a hard time resisting it'.

She stared at him with a stone-cold expression, even though he could distinctly feel the fear and repulsion that she was desperately trying to push back to the deepest part of her mind. Durza took her scent in, pressing his face against her raven hair and she shivered, in fear or disgust he could not tell. Slowly moving his hand upwards, he exposed her skin to the cold air into the room before suddenly tearing her tunic apart so that he could have more access to her body.

As soon as she was undressed, the Elf princess gasped; the freezing air on her skin making her feel even more vulnerable. Durza grinned and, with more care than he needed to, he proceeded to completely remove any cloth on the elfish body that stood naked on the table in front of him.

Arya snarled at him, 'You are going to pay for this…don't think I will ever give in to you'.

'We will see about that, princess,' he said in a light tone, although his eyes were burning with anger and desire. He ran his hand over the Elf's body, exploring it, feeling the warmth emanating from it. His black nails traced the shape of her curves, scratching her skin and causing it to bleed in various points. With both hands he cupped her breasts, circling the base of them with his thumbs before moving to the sides and then up in long measured circles, which progressively became smaller until he was almost brushing against her nipples. Despite their rough appearance, his hands were quite skilled at pleasing human's flesh. Any other human woman would have been writhing under him at this point, yet the Elf was still, looking at him as if thinking " _is that all you've got?"_

He gritted his teeth and trailed his fingers on her ribcage, while contemporaneously bending his head down to take in one of her nipples. He bit down harshly and passionately, causing her skin to break and bleed again. Licking the blood, he moved up with his tongue while his hands were going down, on her hips. He rested his head on her neck, pleasurably feeling her heartbeat through her jugular vein. Hungry, he sucked on it, wishing he could tear that flesh apart and taste her boiling blood.

Then he stopped and looked at her, there had been no change to her expression throughout all of this and he started to wonder if she was even capable of experiencing physical arousal. Rather annoyed by her defiance, he moved his right hand downward, to her most intimate parts. He stopped for a second to look straight into her eyes. Durza saw a quick light flash through them; her lips were slightly parted as if she was going to speak to him.

His eyebrow rose and a questioning expression appeared on his face, 'Is there something you would like to tell me?' he asked in a smooth voice. As an answer, the Elf bit down on her lip and narrowed her eyes, lightly shaking her head from side to side in denial.

He sighed, 'Very well…' and without warning he sunk his rough hand into her.

Arya gasped, she could not help it, her body almost reacting on his own to the sudden pressure, but she forced her expression to stay neutral and shut out any physical emotion she was feeling.

The Shade moved his fingers inside her, up and down, in and out, in a torturing slow motion. His long nails scratched her insides and he could feel the warm flesh clenching against his digits as he pushed them even further. However, despite his attempt to gain even the slightest change in her expression the Elf maintained her composure in front of him at all times. She was looking at him as if his ministrations left her completely unaffected and that angered him beyond measure.

He felt laughed at as if he was no good at all; pissed off by her attitude he interrupted whatever he was doing and, removing is hand from her intimate parts, he slapped her on the face, hard.

After a moment of chilling silent she turned to look at him, a faint smile finally appearing on her bleeding lips, 'Poor Durza, how does it feel, to fail to accomplish even a simple task you have set to yourself?'

He growled, his eyes two burning holes, 'You bitch, I'll teach you a thing or two'.

And then there was pain; lights exploded in front of Arya's eyes and she arched her back, pushing her head down on the stone table. She hit it too hard and for a second her sight blacked out, blood running from her nose. Durza hissed at the sight, he didn't want her to break her head and die. He grabbed a handful of her hair and unceremoniously turned her face to the side, inspecting her skull to check for fractures. Relieved by the fact that it was still intact he resumed torturing her, this time with a cooler mind. After half an hour or so, she passed out, without giving him the pleasure to hear her scream. He pondered if he should heal her and wake her up to start over again, but quickly turned that option down as he noticed that he had grown tired of it for the day. With his anger still boiling, he left the room and upon meeting a couple of Urgals outside of the chamber, he caused their heads to explode into a thousand little black pieces. He smiled with satisfaction, his stress a bit relieved, before moving towards his rooms.


	2. Chapter II: The King and his Vassal

**Chapter II: The King and his Vassal**

 **Gil'ead, Durza's chambers**

Durza shut the door of his room with violence; he stumbled to the bed and let himself fall on it. He was tired and angry, that little elf dared to mock him all the time, while resisting his efforts to break her. Although part of his excitement had waned due to the princess' lack of collaboration, he was still painfully aroused.

His hand wandered downwards, reaching the evident bulge in his dark trousers. He moaned as his fingers lightly touched the sensitive area and his eyes closed for a brief instant. Durza knew he needed release and soon, and the thought of not being able to take it on the elf was making him even more infuriated. With a dark chuckle, he removed his clothing and mentally locked the door. He was not very fond of having to resort to such measures, but it was a matter of emergency now. His long white fingers grabbed his hard manhood and he moved his experienced hand in quick and accurate strokes. After a few minutes, he was already on the edge, panting hard while trashing on the bed, his body burning with heat and his red long hair sticking to his face because of the sweat. He bit his tongue, holding his breath he was so close…

 **Knock, knock.**

Noises could be heard from outside his door and he cursed whoever had interrupted him. With fury he got out of the bed and slammed the door open; magically, his clothes were again covering his body and he stood there, staring at the guard who had dared to disturb him in such a delicate moment.

'Yes?' He unceremoniously yelled at him.

The man shivered in fear and in a trembling voice he stated, 'L-lord D-durza, t-the K-king wants t-to s-see you'.

Durza's eyes narrowed, he didn't feel like meeting King Galbatorix right now, he didn't feel like leaving his bed at all, let alone speak to him. He knew this was about the elf and his failure to retrieve the egg, and that didn't make him more willing to go.

'Well, what are you waiting for here, get lost!' he angrily said to the guard, who immediately retreated, running for his life. He hissed though his teeth as he smothered his clothes and closed the door before leaving for Urû'baen enveloped in dark shades.

 **Urû'baen, the Throne room**

His Majesty's room was hot and in that silence the tension was almost unbearable, Durza looked at the King, who stared back at him with contempt in his eyes. The Shade might have been one of the most powerful beings on Earth, feared by thousands, he was his mentor and loyal servant. Yet, Durza could not help feeling uneasy in front of the doubtlessly angered King. He had failed and was sadly aware that Galbatorix never took well a negative report.

The most powerful man in Alagaesia looked down at his servant from above his throne and softly said, 'So, you failed'.

It was a simple statement, yet the tone in which it had been uttered made Durza feel sick. He knew that he had disappointed him and nothing good could come out of this conversation. Instead of replying, he kept silent, mentally praying that his King would be merciful for just this once. However, his hopes were soon crushed when Galbatorix got up and slowly walked near him, not a good sign at all.

The Shade swallowed his saliva down, his head slightly tilted backwards so that he could put more distance between them. He actually stumbled back in order to avoid collision with the other moving man, yet all his attempts to get away from him failed when his back hit the wall. The King's face was only a few inches from his now; he was towering him from above his height, his pitch-dark eyes scanning him. 'You do know, that I do not appreciate incompetence, especially when it comes to someone of your status'.

'My King, you have my deepest apologies, I…' Durza tried to defend himself.

' _Where_ is the egg?' Galbatorix interrupted him.

'I…I don't know,' the Shade admitted in a broken voice. The taller man eyed him, causing his breath to almost stop. He nervously clenched his hands and prepared himself for whatever punishment was to come.

On his side, Galbatorix was enjoying this. Surely, he was pissed off by the turn that the events had taken. Yet, having Durza at his mercy, sweating in apprehension and fear in front of him, was a pleasure he didn't get often enough. His right hand went to gently stroke the dust off Durza shoulder, at which the Shade's maroon eyes focused on his fingers' movements, carefully following them. The King tilted his head to the side, looking at his servant with a new light in his eyes. 'I understand you have captured the Elf'.

'Yes, I am personally taking care of her. Although, to this point, she has not been much willing to collaborate,' Durza replied, relived by the fact that at least he could be proud of himself for having earned a valuable prisoner. 'I'll make sure she will talk, by any means, Sire'.

Galabtorix's onyx eyes, which had been staring intensively at his servant's chest, flew back on his face, watching his expression. Durza tried to appear calm and detached while his King examined him, yet the thought of the elf princess, shackled to the stone bed while in pain inevitably caused him to feel aroused and annoyed at the same time. The fact that Galbatorix was so close to him wasn't helping either; he could feel his body itching to just grab the other and give in to his needs there and then. It didn't matter if it was his King, and the ruler or Alagaësia, he needed release and Galbatorix was there tempting him, consciously or not.

'I see,' the King said after a short pause, 'I suppose you are trying your best to gain information from her'. And as he said so his hand moved on Durza's chest, fixing the buttons of his dark red shirt while once again he had averted his eyes.

The Shade imperceptibly shivered at the touch, so sensible his nipples had become for he had been resisting his urges for too long. He took in a long breath before answering, 'Yes, my Lord, ah…'

Galbatorix's hand had suddenly moved on his intimate area, causing him to gasp. The dark haired man pressed his fingers on it, making an infinitesimally small movement, so slowly that it looked like his hand was still. Nevertheless, Durza's sensitivity had been increased by the long wait and he moaned, thrusting his hips against his King's hand in an attempt to gain more pleasure. Seeing his reaction Galbatorix grinned; it had been such a long time since he had had some fun with Durza as well. He increased his pace, keeping the other on the edge while asking, 'Can I expect a satisfactory answer from you in the near future then?'

'Of course my King,' Durza managed to say, struggling to hide his arousal seeping through his voice.

'Very well,' Galbatorix replied squeezing Durza's private parts before moving away from him. He turned so that the other was now facing his back, his long mantle shining black into the dim light. The Shade stared at him, unsatisfied and still aroused, he was burning with raw desire from head to toes and it took all his willpower not to jump on the other and finish what he had started. In his head, though, he couldn't help picturing himself stripping Galbatorix down. He craved to touch his broad shoulders and his lean muscles; his powerful scent was like a drug to him.

But the King had interrupted their contact and so Durza didn't dare to approach him, he suspected that Galbatorix had only wanted to tease him, not really knowing how much he was already turned on.

'Remove your clothes,' came the unexpected order.

'My Lord…?' Durza was startled. Was his King actually asking him such a thing now of all times.

'I thought you had pretty good ears, Durza, take off your clothes,' Galbatorix remarked without turning, he joined his hands behind his back and straightened it. Slowly, as if under a trance, Durza obeyed his King's command. One after the other, all of his garments fell to the ground until he was left naked, waiting for his King to make a move.

Galbatorix didn't seem to take notice of his servant's condition nor did he turn around to look at him. However, soon enough Durza felt a presence lingering at the edge of his mind, forcefully entering it. He repressed a giggle, his King never asked, he always took what he wanted. Galbatorix thoroughly explored his conscience before taking action. He was pleased to acknowledge the evident state of arousal Durza was in, though he didn't bother to find out the details of why he was like that. More simply, he just smiled to himself when Durza started stroking his member, slowly and teasingly.

Durza knew now, Galbatorix was not going to touch him; he was just going to play with his body and mind until he was satisfied. Soon he started panting, his hips thrusting without control against his own hand. He bit his bottom lip, trying to focus but his head was spinning due to the intense emotions and a moan escaped his mouth as his left hand went to touch his hardened nipple. In his head, fantasies ran wild, memories of him in the act of having sex with Galbatorix filled his thoughts and almost brought him over the edge. His legs gave away and he fell on his knees, his hair crazily spread all over his shoulders and back, and the King was still not watching him. He mentally cursed Galbatorix for not joining him and the last thing he knew before his hands both were placed palm flat onto the ground was a sudden pain in his head.

Shaking, he wondered what was going to happen, but he only had to wait a few seconds before the sound of falling clothes was heard behind his back and Galbatorix entered him, tearing his flesh apart. He screamed, pain and pleasure mystically mixing together.

Mindless of his henchman's sufferings, Galbatorix started to move at his own pace, his breath heavy and fast. 'Move,' he ordered, clawing Durza's ass with his nails and pushing him against his shaft with unbelievable strength. The Shade obliged his order, rhythmically engaging their hips in a dance of pleasure. Galbatorix's breath was now erratic and Durza was uttering unarticulated sounds, while his cock, left unattended, was asking for release.

'My Lord…' he pleaded.

Galbatorix smirked at his servant's tone, 'Yes?'

'Please…I need to come…' Durza was actually begging, as much as he loathed himself for it, but he couldn't bear it anymore.

Galbatorix nodded to himself saying, 'So do I'.

And with renewed strength he adjusted his angle so that he could directly hit Durza's prostate, making the other forget even his name. A flow of words in arcane and intelligible languages came out of Durza's mouth as he finally released. Galbatorix's back arched and he came into Durza, sending his hot semen deep inside him. Once both of them came down from their high, he got up and quickly recovered his clothes.

Durza stood up as well, he magically cleaned the floor before getting dressed and then waited for his King to say something.

'I'll be expecting good news from you soon,' he glanced at Durza, 'Don't make me wait for too long'.

'Yes, My Lord'. The Shade bowed, his crimson eyes shining.


	3. Chapter III: Durza the Torturer

**Chapter III: Durza the Torturer**

 **Gil'ead, the Fortress**

Durza paced the empty hallways of his fortress. It had been two days since he had seen Galbatorix and he had yet to visit the Elf princess again. He had thought it would be best to leave her rot in her cell alone for a while before pressing her for answers again. As much as in a hurry to find the egg they were, certain things worked best if taken at a slow pace. He slammed the door to his chambers open and rushed inside. His duties awaited him and he grimly sat at his desk pulling some papers out of the drawer.

He sighed as he filled his papyruses with ink in minute scripts, which were illegible to most people. This work was becoming tedious, he reflected as the salt grains slowly fell down inside the clepsydra resting on the wooden cupboard. The days of his life resembled each other so much he had lost count of how many nights he had spent, alone, working on his papers. The only exciting developments seemed to be the occasional executions or the torturing sessions he had with captured enemies. Other than that, even crushing a small little village in the middle of nowhere had lost its appeal, after he had done it so many times already.

Lately, he seemed to have grown numb to most things and the only pleasure came from the sparse episodes of gore and violence which usually accompanied his bursts of anger. His spirits' thirst for blood was still a constant feature of his life after all…No, certainly the main issue was that now he had found a new source of distraction, namely the Elf downstairs, and all of his senses seemed to lean forward in that direction at all times.

He paused, sighing again. It was ridiculous, never heard of a Shade sighing so much to himself. And over what? A silly elf? He hissed through his teeth as the picture of the woman on the stone table entered his head again. Annoyed at himself for his lack of restrain he stood on his feet and stormed out of the room. Down the stairs and into the dungeons, the guards crept into the walls in fear as he passed beside them, his red hair swirling behind his back.

The candlelight danced on the black stony walls as the thick door opened for him at his command. He walked inside, long measured strides as he approached the Elf who was still under the effect of the poison he had given her.

Arya heard a noise to her left and strained her neck to see who was coming in. Her vision was blurred because of the effects of the drugs which had been administered to her by the Shade and his servants, but there was no way she would not recognise the stench of the Spectre. Her nostrils twitched and she pursed her lips together in disgust. Somewhere in the room, the light dimmed and the door shut close as the inhuman man walked towards her.

The elfin princess looked up at him from below as the Shade Durza circled the stone slab, carefully watching the Elf laying beneath his gaze. With a flick of his wrist, the chains seemed to take life and descended from the ceiling. They hung above their heads, suspended in the air, waiting for their Master to make use of them.

Durza's blackened nails harshly stroked the side of Arya's chin, his thumb resting on her mouth.

'Speak,' he ordered in a sombre tone.

The Elf was silent, her green eyes firmly pointed at him. The Shade clicked his tongue in annoyance and his maroon eyes narrowed. 'Do not make myself repeat, elf'. His tone dropped a few degrees as his hand travelled along her long neck, resting against her jugular. He could feel the warm blood pulsing through it and the murderous spirits within him urged Durza to rip her skin apart, to watch the redness flow out of her body as it went limp…but he repressed them and waited for an answer, which did not come.

Scraping her skin, he left a gash across her exposed chest and fisted his bloodied hand. His eyes burned and the ropes holding the Elf in place tightened and then twisted, releasing her hands.

If Arya had wanted to attempt an escape now, it would have been fruitless and she knew that. Durza's eyes never broke contact with hers and she could feel the pressure and the hold he had put on her. Too tired, both physically and mentally, to put up any resistance she let him manoeuvre her body as he pleased. She did not even have sufficient strength for mentally insulting him in every possible language she knew as he forced her up and chained her wrists to the shackles, which were still hanging from above.

Suddenly, Arya found herself up in the air, feet dangling from the floor, her toes barely reaching the stony ground. A deathly silence followed as she cast her eyes down, afraid that eye contact would grant the Shade an easier access to her mind. Not that she could prevent him from searching it for much longer, given her state.

Durza muttered a few words and the room changed its appearance. The table was now gone, replaced by a wooden bench against the wall. It was not clear whether they had changed location or if the location had changed shape for them.

The Spectre approached the bench and with cold hands he examined a few instruments which fell out of Arya's sight. The Elf internally flinched at the thought of what was to come and steeled herself in preparation for it.

'You may want to unseal that mouth of yours before this gets any more gruesome,' came the macabre remark. Despite this, Durza's statement was only met by silence and the Spectre grimaced. His long fingers caressed the steel instruments, some of them shining new, others rusty like the bolts of an old ship. He mused on the choice, should he cut her up and then stitch her back together with poisoned thread? Prickle her with iron claws? Scar her with heated rods in ways she would never be able to heal? It was a hard choice indeed…

Finally, after what it seemed an eternity, he picked something up and walked over to where she was. Arya could not see him, for he was standing behind her now. Durza adjusted his belt while he attentively studied her back. The torn rags she was wearing revealed much of her skin and he could see her shoulder bones protruding from her skinny back.

The Elf kept her mouth shut, even as a dreadful feeling spread across her chest. She heard the Shade straighten his clothes before he said mockingly, 'Fine then, have it your way, princess'.

And then the assault began. As if a tense rope was cutting through the air, she heard a whizzing sound just before something made contact with her skin. The lash was violent and the sharp claws drew blood from her. A whip was what he had gotten from the table; among all the possible choices of torture devices, he had gone for the most common to appear in literature.

Who doesn't like reading about kinky couples giving a good lash to each other before proceeding to have mid-blowing sex? The only issue, in this case it was her _captor_ who was mercilessly striking her back with acute pain, sharp metal and leather ropes. No rewarding sex featured on his menu today and Arya just needed to ascertain that.

'This is a rather different touch than the one you reserved for me the other day,' were the first words she spoke to him ever since he had entered the room.

Durza paused mid-strike, taken back by her words and the memory that they implied. He remembered the lust and the arousal he had felt last time. That was part of the reason why he had been absent from her cell for so long, the other being Galbatorix's unexpected attentions which had left him in a messy mental state.

'Who said we cannot have an upgrade on that?' Besides, it was perfect, her position was just so right; he could easily slide an arm around her belly and pull her closer. Then take his clothes off and…no…duties came before pleasure, he reminded himself as a shadow passed on his face. What he needed now were answers, not sex.

'An upgrade on your performance?' The Elf scornful words burned into his ears and the Shade lashed at her, maybe with more force than he had intended to. He needed to be more careful with his strength, Durza reminded himself, he had plans to lead this slow after all.

'Not that it would make any difference with you, oh prude damsel,' he sarcastically remarked.

'There's nothing prude,' Arya replied through her teeth, 'in finding your touch, the touch of a _shade,_ disgusting'.

'My apologies,' Durza's tone was as icy as frozen snow when he spoke, his eyes darkening and hollow. 'Not prude but frigid, I should have said'. The twisted rope cut through the air again and one more gash appeared on the Elf's back, which arched in pain.

 _You sick bastard_. Arya mentally cursed him since all of the air had flown out of her lungs after the last strike.

Another hit followed the previous one, in a similar fashion and as precise as to graze her in exactly the same spot. She bit down on her lower lip, containing a scream which threatened to escape her mouth.

The Shade's burning orbs were fixed on her bare back; mesmerised he watched as more cuts opened up and red liquid oozed out of them. The Spirits inside him grew more agitated as the scent of blood filled the room. He licked his lips, admiring his handiwork. The Elf's breaths now came out in shreds as if even her lungs had been pierced through by his fury.

It was truly hypnotizing, the beautiful carvings he had dug into her skin. He had made a good choice of instrument he noticed as he looked down to the bloodied whip in his hand. The knotted leather cord closed up on itself in spirals, clutching finely sharpened metal claws at the end. It was a punishment tool purely designated to inflict immense pain to the unfortunate victim.

Once again he looked up, admiring the scarring lacerations in his prisoner's flesh. Just for the fun of it, he lashed at her legs earning a gasp. 'Feeling like you want to speak yet?'

Arya was suddenly brought back to reality from the mental refuge she had shielded herself in to resist his beating. She whispered something the other couldn't grasp, even with his superhuman ears.

The Spectre loosely hanged the whip on his belt and slowly strode towards the Elf. He sniffed her hair, his right had clawing her shoulder as he moved her tightly close to him. 'Did you say something?' he whispered to her ear from behind her.

'Nothing you'll do will make me speak'.

'We'll see about that, princess'. He calmly stroked her dark hair before sliding a sharp nail through one of the many scratches covering her back.

Arya bit her tears back and clenched her fists so tight that they bled. She hated him, with all her heart.

'Where is the egg?' Durza uttered, stressing every single word, his stale breath invading Arya's nostrils.

'I don't know,' she replied in an equal fashion.

'Where are the Vardens?' He urged her again, fingers caressing her wounds.

'They have moved from the shelter I knew,' she hissed in pain; sweat covered her forehead and her ragged tunic.

'Liar'.

Sparks appeared in front of Arya's eyes as she felt a burning pain propagating through her spine from the point of contact of Durza's thumb. 'Stop wasting my time, elf'. She heard him say amongst the stormy sound caused by the blood rushing though her ears.

Then he was gone, no longer pressing against her but back to his former occupation. Crueller and more ruthless than ever, he engaged in a hellish sport. His eyes glowed and his furious red hair swung in tempo with the thongs as he hit her over and over again.

With each strike Arya's mind was also put to test, a sharp pain crushing through her every time the rope made contact with her skin. Like dagger, he stabbed her mental defences, attempting to gain an opening through every small crack he could find in the wall surrounding her consciousness in order to crush it.

Her sight blurred as both physical and mental sensations fused together and she gritted her teeth. Arya did know for how long her flagellation had been going on, but she knew she would not be able to stand it for much longer. Indeed, a few lashes later, her system shut down and she fell into numbness, her remaining energy primarily focused on keeping her secrets safe.

Durza cursed her and sent the whip flying across the room. It impacted against the wall and fell down onto the blood covered ground. There was blood everywhere in that room: splashed on the walls, covering the floor, even his clothes were drenched in it. He glanced at the Elf and muttered a few words, some cuts healed others stopped bleeding, he would not allow her to die of blood loss.

With a turn, he flung himself through the door and left her alone, hanging from the wall and covered in cuts and blood. It would be another few days before he visited her again, but that position suited her, he decided as he irately walked through the castle.


	4. Chapter IIII: A call

**A/N:** English is not my first language so my attempt at adding some slang/dialect in the soldiers speech might look very very weird/out of place/wrong, (it is supposed to be close to South-West English somehow).  
Constructive criticism is very appreciated.

 **Chapter IIII: A call**

 **Urû'baen, the King's chambers**

Galbatorix paced his room, restless.

'Murtagh!' He yelled.

'Yes, my Lord'. A shady figure appeared from the dark.

'Bring me the map'.

The man bowed and exited the room, only to return a few minutes later with a large papyrus map. He climber near the King's bed and, kneeling down, he offered him the object of his request.

The elder man seemed to pay no attention to him as his dark eyes immediately focused on the chart. He followed the lines of ridges and rivers with his index finger, tracing the edge of the Elves' domains. The map needs to be updated, he thought.

Sighing in annoyance, he unknowingly sent a shiver down the young man's spine. Murtagh's dark oily hair clutched at his temples as he stood to his King's bedside, his head lowered in an ever-present bow. 'Anything else you require of me?' He asked hesitantly, hoping the other would merely send him away.

The King did not reply for a while and Murtagh grew wary of his response. 'I think I will visit Durza sometime soon,' he announced. 'In the meantime, take care of my stables'.

Murtagh curtsied and, taking his Kings' words as a hint, he left the room.

Galbatorix went back to his previous occupation of studying the map and again he sighed at the sight of the Elven domains. Serious corrections needed to be made to that part and with that purpose in mind he rose from his bed and walked over to his dressing room.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror he adjusted his cravat and put on a golden striped black cloak. His lack of hair had not affected his attractiveness; in fact, it accentuated the dark sparkle in his coal eyes.

It had been seven days since he had seen Durza and the Shade had yet to report anything new. Time to pay him a visit, Galbatorix thought as he mentally called his Dragon to his side. Shruikan flew to his Master and the Dragon Rider hopped on his back. Without hesitation, he left Urû'baen directed towards Gil'ead.

It was not every day that a King would make the journey to meet his servant and usually such days did not bring good news. This time, however, Galbatorix had one more pressing reason for flying there and he dashed through the night at full speed.

* * *

 **Gil'ead, Arya's cell**

In her unconscious state Arya shivered in the dark and humid cell. She had been left hanging from the ceiling, feet suspended above the ground and bleeding cuts stretched open by gravity. The Shade had had so much compassion to him as to heal the worst wounds, in order to prevent her from dying of blood loss.

She heard the clatter of the soldiers outside the door and she knew that Durza was not among them; the Spectre had a peculiar aura following him around wherever he went, announcing his presence.

A key twisted in the door and it sprung open, giving a group of armed men access to the room.

Arya kept her eyes shut, her conscience swinging on the edge of her mental barriers. There was a slim chance that a Magician might be among them and she did not want to risk anything slipping through her mind.

The men spread inside the room, undoubtedly afraid of approaching her. _Why did he not send Urgals to do the job?_ She thought as a hesitant hand touched her wrists and started unlocking them. The rattling sound of metal hitting the ground soon reverberated through the room as the shackles fell to the ground. Similarly, she limply fell onto the floor; partly pretending, partly not, that she was too weak to stand or even regain consciousness. The pain that sprang in her mind as her body hit the cold stone cracked her forehead with furrows, which the men did not notice. Instead, one of them cursed at the one who had released her and proceeded to pick her up.

'For Heaven's sake! She's a'ready in a bad shape, ye know! Don't want the Master to be upset we accidentally broke his toy, uh'. He inspected Arya's dirty face, moving a strand of hair out of the way.

The Elven princess lay still in his arms, eyes closed and her breaths long and regular despite the pain coming from her cuts. She was, to the man, beautiful like any other supernatural being from her race and the soldier took a moment too long to place her back on the stony bed which was allocated to her. Even if it wasn't animalistic lust, like that of the Shade, his face still betrayed the platonic reverence he felt for the Elf.

Upon noticing his expression, one of his companion pulled him by the arm. 'Com'on Phil, let this bitch rest an' let's go grab some booze downtown'.

Two more of the guards voiced their assent with grunts and the man called Phil seemed to retreat with them. 'The Master won't like it if we take action without his permission,' another one said.

'Orders be to untie her and if conscious let'n know, otherwise just put her on the slab until he's back, he zaid'.

So, Durza was away? Arya took a mental note. Either way she was in no state to attempt an escape. She wished, although with little hope, that he did not come back before she had recovered enough strength to put up a fight. Despite his lack of visits, the magic-preventing drug was still in effect and a magician had been carefully administering her daily doses of Skilna Bragh and antidote. There was nowhere for her to run if not in the arms of death even once she escaped Gil'ead.

She heard the soldiers fumbling with the keys and then they were out. Arya still did not move nor leave her semi-conscious state; it helped her keep the pain at bay, even if only partially. She pondered her possibilities and with each new observation, an escape seemed more and more unreal. She wanted to cry, for the pain and the distress caused by her current situation. Instead, she forced herself to keep a cool attitude towards her fate. Arya was a cold calculative Elf and that was what was going to keep her alive there, if anything.

The egg is safe, she reminded herself with a smile even as the burning cuts tormented her skin. She might have not known where exactly the egg had ended up to, but she was sure she had at least gotten it as far away from the Shade's grasp as possible. It might even have hatched already if by a miraculous chance it had found a valid Rider.

And…did the soldiers mention that Durza was away? Arya cautiously allowed her conscience to expand and explore her surroundings. Within her unconscious state she had managed to recover a bit of mental strength, enough to perceive other people's presence even at distance. It seemed that the men were telling the truth as she could not distinctively pick the Shade's aura out anywhere near her. He might have been watching her from the distance though, given his immense powers. It would have been a real shame to lose control of her mind now, but this was an occasion which might not happen again.

Arya cautiously dared to move a little further out, pearly sweat already covering her forehead. She sensed arcane spells and magical defences surrounding the fortress; she could see that most of them were made for keeping things out, not in. Hence, she pushed forward, careful to not step on anything which could trigger an alarm in the Shade's mind. She circumvented a trap and jumped out into the fields, free at least to roam with her mind power. Without wasting a single instant, she launched forward and searched the world of the men for Brom's presence.

The old man lived in a tiny village called Carvahall close to the Spine. It was several miles from Gil'ead but she had to try and reach him. With a sprint she visualised the little town, yet just as she was starting to feel closer to his aura her strength waned and she began slipping back into her cell. In a desperate attempt to leave at least a message, she focused all of her forces on her task, leaving her mind exposed to attacks for a brief second and directed a stream of energy and images in what she though was Brom's direction. Then all went black.


End file.
